


When You Die

by beggarsguild



Category: League of Legends
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Developing Relationship, Enemies to Lovers, Falling In Love, Gen, I'm Bad At Summaries, M/M, Not Beta Read, can be read as platonic or romantic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-24 09:42:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30070341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beggarsguild/pseuds/beggarsguild
Summary: Something is there, he just can't tell what yet
Relationships: Shieda Kayn/Rhaast
Comments: 1
Kudos: 27





	When You Die

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this to be romantic but there isn't a lot so take it as you will

  
  


Sometimes Kayn dreams of Shurima. It’s quick, it disappears almost as fast as it shows up, but he sees it. Feeling the soft sands through his fingertips before it falls back into the desert under his feet. He feels the scythe being lifted over his shoulder as he overlooks a vast city, now buried in the sands that he once loved, and out into a sunset that will never be the same. 

He wonders why he sees it now, there must be a reason, so when his eyes snap open and he no longer feels the heat of the sun beating on his skin. He drags himself up and pulls the scythe off of the wall where it is held. Slowly, the eye opens until the cat-like pupil is all he hopes to see, and he hears the other chuckle softly.

**“I see you have been digging your dirty hands into places where they do not belong, fool. Do you ever quit?”**

Ah, so that’s why he saw it. He does remember asking the scythe about his life before being trapped the night before, and he remembers the growl he got back as a response before falling into a slumber full of a lost city and a past forgotten by time itself. Suddenly remembering the heat he felt under the sun, Kayn looks away from the eye and instead focuses on the window feet from him. The snow feels mocking, reminding him that what he saw minutes ago was simply a dream, something he would never truly understand the feeling of (he wishes he could).

He wonders if Rhaast meant to show him a glimpse of what he once was, the darkin that towered over all and killed anyone that got in his way, a tale lost to time only found in the ancient libraries.

“What was it like? Your past.”

Kayn hears the darkin’s rumbling before he decides to speak.

**“A time of power. One where war was all you knew and all you heard about. Shurima was a city covered in war and built upon the bodies of the dead sitting underneath the soil.”**

He feels flashes of the other’s emotion through their connection; anger, bloodlust, satisfaction, they all blend together into a soft sort of sadness that feels like a knife through his heart. 

Power was all Rhaast knew, and it was all he would ever know. He remembers others like him, one who’s sword could wipe out entire armies like they were nothing and an archer whos’ arrows killed in single shots, but they were lost to time as well, too, and if they weren’t he doubted he would see them again.

He remembers another, the godforsaken bird, _Azir_. The one who had subjected him to the torment of being alone for so long because though they were strong, but the ascended never stood a chance against gods that were created to right wrongs and rule. 

And he misses it all. He misses the dunes beneath his claws as he wandered, searching for something that he knew would not be there. Misses the sun beating down onto his armor as he looked off into a sunset bathing the land around him into the red he was so oh so used to. 

Too bad that time is over, and it will never return, no matter how much he thinks about it and wishes, just _wishes_ that he could once again feel the power he had felt so long ago as he crushed the skulls of innocents under his feet and carried the weight of hundreds. 

Kayn would never truly understand. Kayn is many things; he is intelligent, cruel, bloodthirsty, but he is not apathetic, and he never will be, just as Rhaast likes it. 

He remembers when Kayn first picked him up, he whispered the promises of power and strength to the other in hopes that it would be enough to make him snap, but he stood strong, and Rhaast _hates_ him for it. 

They are two sides of the same coin, Rhaast’s overwhelming bloodlust and thirst for power simply influencing Kayn’s desire for destruction and wanting to see the world around him unravel. 

But they are both stubborn to a fault, Kayn refuses to give in to the darkin’s feelings and Rhaast refuses to let a human win against him. Just how they like it. 

It is quiet now. The sun peaks over the snow on the ground simply reminding Rhaast that time is passing without him still. He hates it. 

—

Kayn does not usually share his emotions, but when he does, it is when he is tearing through the bodies of the lowly Noxians whos blood he doesn’t even want on his blade. The excitement of the kill seeps into their minds, making Rhaast laugh as he beheads another soldier who will remain lost to time, unknown to everyone (kind of like him). 

When he thinks about it later, it sours his mood. He is unknown, isn’t he? He _wasn’t,_ but now the world is different. No one knows the true terror of darkins like they used too, where the word would send villages feeling to search for another place to be safe. 

But now time has passed (without him, as he is once reminded), and no one fears him anymore. People laugh at the word darkin, even after seeing Kayn and the corruption crawling across his body like a burn. They are _not_ feared. They are mocked and used in children’s stories as villians nowadays.

They do not know the true terror of a race made to destroy. And Rhaast cannot do anything to change that, as he is locked into a battle of wills with a man brimming with overconfidence who dreams of the destruction he once caused. 

He just wishes to hold his scythe once again. 

—

When Kayn hooks Rhaast over his back and leaves his room, he feels the other open the doors to Zed’s room, watching as he slowly turns around, he has no need to fear anyone here. 

Zed is odd. He is quiet, stoic, he rarely helps the acolytes with anything besides giving missions and sometimes the rare praise. He is haunted, the shadows cling to him as a child clings to his parents, and he can _feel_ the shadows sway to burn holes into the one who walked in. Zed has never once spoken of his past, but something dark lurks there, a burden that he carries that no one tries to pry at, and it is better that way. 

Kayn remembers when Zed pulled him from the filth and muck that was Noxus, he remembers the sickle he held, beheading anyone who got near him, out of fear or confidence, he’s not sure. He remembers being pulled by the scruff of his shirt and put into a caravan with the Kinkou. He remembers seeing Zed’s face for the first time. He was younger then, but still scarred, the bags under his eyes were heavy, and his white hair ruffled in the wind as he looked and Kayn and said the words:

_”You’re safe now. There will be no more war for now.”_

He had admired Zed as a child, a man who was one with the shadows of his past, a silent assassin. Zed had taught him everything from using the magic of shadows to how to read and write. However as he got older he realized Zed became detached, no longer cared like he used to. 

As soon as Zed quit caring Rhaast had come into his life, the excitement of having another who shared his ambitions was _fun_ , and Kayn realized that the one thing Zed did not teach him was how to feel. 

Rhaast was everything but soft, he was bloodthirsty, angry, a ruler degraded into nothing trying to rise back from the ash. But there was something about him that was appealing, making Kayn always come back to it. 

He wonders if Rhaast feels the same or if he feels at all.

—-

Kayn leaves Zed’s room with an order to kill a group of Noxians spotted in the area and that is it. There is no room for conversation between the two. Kayn has stopped caring. 

Perched in the trees he looks along the ground for any sign that they would arrive soon. Sighing, he reaches Rhaast for comfort, the other’s emotions surrounding him like a blanket, he already feels himself smirking at the idea of another killing session. 

They don’t have to wait long, soon he hears the smacking of feet against the dirt and he looks below and sees them, unsuspecting, good. He likes it best that way, getting to hear their yells of surprise before he crushes them. 

He hears Rhaast’s purr as he calls the shadow magic and stalks behind the group. He swiftly drags the scythe through the soldier closest to the back, feeling the smirk grow on his face as he feels the blood splatter all over the ground around him. Hearing the screams the others turn, but he is already gone. 

Holding back his chuckle, he feels Rhaast’s rage rise, pouring into him like it filling an already half full glass of water. His grip tightens as he gets closer again, they are weary now, unsure of what they are dealing with. Rising from behind one of them, he cleaves them in half quickly, finally they see him, he smirks again.

Running up to the soldier in front of him, he cleaves another in half before his head swims with the desire for _more_. More blood, more death, destruction, he wants to see the world crumble. He knows it’s Rhaast’s influence, but he can’t find himself to care at all. Moving towards the captain, he feels a sword pierce his side, but he ignores it in favor of grasping the captain’s neck before shoving them to the ground. Feeling them sputter for breath under his hands as their struggles soon cease to nothing. 

Yanking the sword out of his side he notices how bad the wound actually is. The cut is deep, almost deep enough to kill, so it still hurts. Hissing, he lays down against a tree, looking at the massacre he created. He looks down at the scythe in his hand. Feels his excitement, and he loves it. 

**”More! More! We need more blood! I want to see this filthy race become nothing but dirt under our feet!”**

“As do I, but I cannot move, so there is not much left to do right now.”

Rhaast’s mood swiftly diminishes as his eye looks at Kayn’s wound, still dripping with fresh blood. 

**”Will you survive?”**

“Possibly.”

He curses himself for being weak, if his mind was not so easily influenced he wouldn’t be lying here right now, bleeding out. 

**”Let me take over.”**

He rejects the idea instantly, Rhaast taking over means he loses, and he will _not_ lose. He has no other options though, if he does not he will die anyways, and Rhaast will win in an even worse way. So he gives in. 

He instantly feels the other so much closer, like they are now one. Everything overlaps, emotions, thoughts, bodies, until they feel like one. He feels his fingers move towards the wound, but he is not doing it. Kayn wonders if this is how Rhaast feels, being so close yet miles away, his mind is no longer his own, he is trapped for now. And he hates it. 

He feels like he is watching through the eyes of someone else, nothing he does will work, he feels the wound closing quickly, a perk of darkin healing, and he feels the corruption crawl upon his chest more and up his neck, he feels Rhaast’s power stop for a second. An opening. He shoves the other out of his mind once again, standing up he sees the wound has turned into a simple scar, and the corruption has indeed grown, covering even more of his chest now. 

Looking at the scythe, he hears nothing. It is quiet now, a mocking statement. Kayn hates the silence, it reminds him of unwanted times, but Rhaast will not speak up so Kayn will not either, and so they head back.

He wonders what made him quiet.

—

In the silence Rhaast thinks. When he invaded Kayn’s body, even only for a minute, he had felt things, things he shouldn’t. Adoration, happiness, peace, things that darkins do _not_ feel, and are not made to feel. It had thrown Rhaast off, making him forget to concentrate, meaning he was back in his scythe. He growls softly to himself. He hates it. He hates the prison he has come accustomed to. 

He ponders why Kayn felt those things towards _what_? He had no answer. Kayn did not feel happiness, he has never, and he never will. Peace is not a true concept to the Kinkou, meditation is nothing to Kayn nor the others. But he harbors them, and now Rhaast knows, and now he feels them. 

He hates the overly sweet feeling of happiness, much preferring the looming sense of sadness or overbearing presence of anger. He does not believe in peace, it is boring, war is much more entertaining. 

He is left to think about him and Kayn. 

It is boring.

When they return to the monastery, Zed is there. He quickly thanks Kayn for completing his mission before disappearing back into the shadows, as he always does now. Rhaast cannot remember anytime that Zed has been near Kayn for long besides the courtyard. Kayn says that his master has been busy lately, but Rhaast has always had a hunch that Zed doesn't exactly always tell the truth. Kayn strolls back to his room, still quiet, thinking.

It is so quiet. They hate it, or at least he thinks they do.

Kayn breaks the silence first. 

“Why did you not kill me as soon as you got control?” 

The question has Rhaast reeling. He is right, why _didn’t_ he? It was the perfect chance, Kayn had no other options, but something about killing him then seemed wrong. Why though? He is silent for a second before he speaks again. 

**”You are weaker than you realize.”**

“What?”

**”You feel too much. It will be the end of you. One day I will reclaim your body and there will be no hope or happiness left to cling to.”**

“Happiness? I do not feel happiness, I want to watch the world burn.”

**”With whom?”**

Kayn is silent for a moment before he speaks once again, his voice soft and unlike his normal confident self, a weakness. Perhaps he can take advantage of it later.

“You.”

It is silent after that.

—

Weeks past and the incident is not spoken of again. There is nothing to say. Rhaast has never felt anything towards anyone else. He thinks about what he likes; his scythe, the sunset, the color red, but Kayn? There is no way, he does not cling to him affectionately, he cannot.

He thinks about how Kayn will not let anyone else wield him, and he likes it, but he will not admit it. He likes that the male was born onto a path of destruction as he once was, and it will forever be all he knows. Likes the corruption growing on his body, showing that his body is not fully his own, that he is fighting an uphill battle. 

Maybe Rhaast does like him, but he is not sure that he can feel love. He was created without it, but maybe excitement is close, when he rushes to be a part of Kayn’s thoughts like a moth to a flame. He likes his undivided attention, wants Kayn to think of no one but him. Likes his cocky smile and likes when the blood trickles off of his hands into the grounds below. Rhaast has lived for a millennia and will live for many more, but he has never once felt like this before. It is odd, he supposes, but he himself is odd, and so it is perfect. 

He feels a closer connection to Kayn than he did before taking over his body. He feels so much more now, the anger when Zed ignores his pupil to do anything else, the annoyance at the others for constantly staring at him even though they see them everyday in the training grounds. He feels much more real now, attached to the world in a way he was not before, almost like he is alive again. He is not, but he will take what he can get. Maybe exploring this feeling is his ticket out.

The day passes all the same, Kayn trains, he tries his best to pick apart the other, fails, and watches the other meditate for hours on end before he gets returned to Kayn’s room while the other does everything else. The night looks cold, not that he can feel it. His eye looks at the moon through the small, tinted window, so high above everything else, like he wishes he was. He thinks back to what Kayn said what felt like ages ago. Watching the world burn with another, it is an appealing idea, one he has never entertained until now, but appealing all the same. Where would he be if Kayn had not rescued him? In the bunkers below Noxus as he was for so long? Or maybe he would be roaming the lands tearing through temporary bodies like paper, but all outcomes end with the same thing. _He would be alone._

**”Kayn.”** He feels the other’s flicker of annoyance before watching him turn around, he quite likes it, the way Kayn will listen to him so easily. 

“Rhaast.” 

**“I think,”** he pauses for a second, attempting to collect his thoughts, **“I would like to watch the world burn with you as well.”** Minutes pass with nothing but the sound of Kayn’s breathing to comfort him before he watches a smirk light up the scythe wielder's face.

“I know.”

**“You** **_ass._ ** **”**

**Author's Note:**

> I had no idea how to end this so it sat in a google doc for a while but I still wanted to post it so yeah


End file.
